


Through the Oceans of Time

by EmerySaks7



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Titanic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerySaks7/pseuds/EmerySaks7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Captain Jean-Luc Picard and a widowed Beverly Crusher meet on the maiden voyage of the RMS Titanic, neither are prepared for the strong attraction they feel. But is it real or merely a dream?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Night to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> _This story was written in 1998. I recently came across it in my archive and thought I'd post it for posterity. Also, I'm a true Titanic fan (since 1986) and was a Titanic buff long before James Cameron came out with his movie (which was a good film). But, this idea was floating around in my head, and I thought you folks might enjoy it. Danny Kaye fans will recognize the "toast" scene from "A Song Is Born." I love comments, so send them my way!_

_Disclaimer: Paramount owns every single aspect of the Star Trek universe. I do not. But, the story and kissy ideas are mine._

He had seen her twice before. Once, while docked in Southhampton, as new passengers boarded Titanic, and then again, two evenings ago on A-deck. He had watched her, unobserved, as she strolled up and down the deck, occasionally greeting a passing passenger, but mostly enjoying the solitude. He had been taken aback by her beauty The moon had hung high overhead that night, bathing her in its crystal glow. A sharp intake of breath, on his part, had followed when it cast upon her auburn hair, reflecting and shimmering in the moonlight.

And now, here he was tonight, dressed in a black tuxedo, complete with tails, cufflinks, and a black bowtie. A top hat in one hand and a cane in the other defined the look.

His gaze followed her across the room, taking in her appearance. She, for her part, represented the cream of the social elite. A satin gown of dark green fell off her shoulders and pooled at her ankles. Her hair, done in small ringlets, framed her face; emeralds sat on her elegant throat, contrasting sharply with her creamy white skin.

As she turned to greet someone, he noticed her eyes for the first time. The were pools of blue. A blue as bright and clear as the ocean on a tranquil day. Eyes a man could get lost in. He wanted to know. He needed to know, so finally, he asked.

"J.J. Who is that exquisite woman over there?"

Astor raised his eyes to where Picard was staring. A smile came to his lips when he realized who Picard was referring to.

"Ah. That is Mrs. Beverly Crusher."

"Mrs.?" he echoed, disappointment filling his voice.

"Yes. Recently widowed, though. Her husband was killed several months ago. An explosion, I believe."

A frown crossed Picard's face. "How tragic," he murmured. "And she's traveling all alone? That isn't safe."

Astor laughed as Picard's gaze lingered on her.

"Go introduce yourself, man. The worst she can do is say no," he boomed, clapping him on the back.

Picard started forward, then stopped, turning back around.

"Maybe I shouldn't. She does, after all, look quite a bit younger than me," he pointed out, searching for an excuse.

Astor merely laughed.

"I didn't let that stop me, did I?"

Jean-Luc's face reddened, slightly embarrassed. Regaining his composure, he straightened his dinner jacket. "Of course, you're right, J.J."

"I always am, Picard. Now, go over there!"

With one last backward glance at Astor, Picard began making his way to where the auburn haired beauty sat.

xxx

"Excuse me."

Beverly lifted her gaze to the gentleman standing before her. Her eyes took in his chiseled features, his lean frame. Strong cheekbones, prominent forehead, and a compact, but most definitely defined body. But, what really caught her attention were his eyes. A soft hazel, almost green tonight, and so warm and inviting. She tore herself away

from her study of him.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry for interrupting you, but I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. A woman as beautiful as yourself shouldn't be sitting here all alone on a ship such as this."

"Oh, really?" Her eyes lit up in amusement.

"Quite certain. May I?" He gestured to the empty chair, opposite her. She eyed him thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. After all, I don't even know your name."

"How thoughtless of me. Where are my manners? Capitaine de vaisseau Jean- Luc Picard, La Royale," he replied, in what he hoped what a suave manner, and took her hand and raising it to his lips.

"A Navy man?" she smiled.

"Yes," he replied, smiling back.

"My mother warned me about sailors," she told him, a serious look on her face. His features fell at that statement.

"Fortunately for you," Beverly continued, "I was never one to listen to my mother. Please," she gestured, "join me."

The smile returned and he sat down across from her. "Thank you. Might I order you something to drink?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

Looking around, he motioned for a waiter. The man appeared at their table. "Yes, sir? What may I help you with?"

"I'd like a white wine for this lovely woman and something burgundy for myself."

"Any particular vintage, sir?"

He thought for a moment. "Do you have any of the Picard wines?"

Beverly's eyebrow lifted.

"Of course, sir."

"Very well. Make it the '52."

"An excellent selection, sir. I will be back shortly."

Picard watched as the waiter hurried off, then turned as Beverly spoke.

"Picard vintage?"

"Yes, my family owns a vineyard in LeBarre. A family business, one might say," he said, by way of explanation.

"And yet, here you are, a Naval Captain."

Jean-Luc didn't miss the teasing tone in her voice.

"Let's just say that I didn't take to it. Robert, my older brother, he's the vintner."

"Your drinks, madam, sir." They both looked up as the waiter placed their glasses in front of them. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, this will do nicely." Picard handed him a coin.

"Thank you, sir." He pocketed the tip and hurried away.

"So," Beverly smiled, raising the glass to her lips, "I'm sure that as a Captain, you've seen many beautiful sights throughout the world."

"None that can compare to the beauty before me," he murmured, gazing into her eyes.

Beverly's eyes met his, taking in their seriousness. She swallowed, slowly replacing her glass to the table, and mentally cursing herself for the blush she knew was coloring her face.

Mistaking her silence for discomfort, Picard glanced down. "I'm sorry. I did not intend any disrespect to you, Mrs. Crusher. I was –"

Beverly looked at him curiously and interrupted. "How do you know my name?" Now it was Picard's turn to blush.

"I ... um," he cleared his throat. "I asked around."

The smiled returned to Beverly's lips. "I'm flattered."

Relief shone across his face and he replied, "I'm grateful that you're flattered."

She laughed at his comment. Keeping his gaze on her, he emptied his glass.

"I hope you don't think it too forward of me, but would you care to join me for a stroll on the boat deck?" he asked.

He watched as a smile crept to her lips.

"I'd love to."

Rising from his chair, he offered Beverly his arm. She rose and took it, tucking her arm through his. J.J. Astor just watched, from across the room, and smiled.

xxx

"It's a lovely night, don't you think?"

Jean-Luc gazed at his companion, watching in jealous envy as the sea breeze washed across her face, lifting her hair in a gentle caress.

"It is at that," he replied, wistfully.

She glanced at him curiously. "So tell me, Mr. Picard. What's a Captain in the Royal Navy doing on a ship headed for America?"

"At the urging of my second-in-command." He chuckled. "I am, as he put it, taking a well-deserved and much needed vacation. And please, call me Jean-Luc."

"Only if you agree to call me Beverly."

"Agreed." He regarded her for moment and shook his head.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"It's something," she pushed. "Please. Tell me."

"I can't help but notice how different you are from the others."

"Different?" she echoed, puzzled.

"Not that it's a negative, you understand," he quickly amended. "It's just that you're so-" he paused, searching for the right words, "so amicable. Gregarious, perhaps."

She smiled at him. "Thank you. I could say the same of you."

She frowned at him as he began laughing. "What? What's so funny about that?"

"I'm sorry Beverly. Really I am. It's just that those who work with me would be the first to dispute that statement."

"And why's that?"

"Most people find me reserved, engrossed in my work – and they are right. I am."

"Yes. I've seen those very qualities in the few hours we've spent together," she rolled her eyes.

"No, it's true," he insisted. "At least, it was before tonight." He paused.

"I don't know what it is. I cannot explain it."

"Explain what?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes. I don't know why, but I feel completely at ease with you. It's almost as if I've known you for years. It sounds ludicrous, I know ..." his voice trailed off, staring at the sea.

"No," she spoke softly.

He turned to her. "No?"

"No," she repeated, gazing at him. "It doesn't. I felt it too. I can't explain it, but with you, I feel ... safe."

She averted her eyes, a blush filling her cheeks, as he stared at her.

"I am pleased to hear you say that," he told her, his voice low.

"As am I."

A few moments, as they both watched the ocean, drinking in the beauty of it...the magic of the moment.

"It's getting late," he murmured.

"Yes, it is."

"Let me escort you to your cabin."

"I'd like that."

His lips curled into a small smile and he took her arm, linking it through his own. Beverly smiled as his hand came to rest atop hers.

"What cabin are you in?"

"A-72."

"Really?" he asked in mild surprise.

"Yes. Is it so hard to believe that I can afford a first-class cabin?" she teased.

"No, of course not," he said in consternation.

Beverly grinned as his eyebrows came together in concern. "I was only teasing, Jean-Luc," she laughed. "I think I'm beginning to understand your friends' assessment of your reserved nature."

He threw her a sharp glance and then relaxed when he saw the sparkle in her eyes.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," he replied in a light tone. "I was merely surprised at how close our cabins are. I'm in A-76."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And yet, until tonight, I haven't seen you," she commented.

"Well, truth be told, I haven't been out of my cabin all that much. An occasional stroll at night."

"More of that reserved personality, no doubt."

"Guilty as charged," he replied with a smile.

"Hmm. We'll just have to see about fixing that."

He could barely keep the grin off his face at that remark and prayed fervently that Beverly wouldn't notice.

She did. Smiling to herself, she decided not to acknowledge it, lest it cause him embarrassment.

xxx

"Here we are," he announced when they found themselves standing in front of their quarters.

Beverly smiled. "Thank you for the wonderful evening, Jean-Luc. I'm so glad you introduced yourself."

"So am I, and it was my pleasure, Beverly."

A silence fell and they gazed at each other, neither wanting the evening to end.

"I should retire for the evening," Beverly told him softly.

"Yes."

Neither of them moved.

"Jean-Luc?"

"Yes?"

"I'm still standing here, aren't I?"

"So, it would seem," he answered with a soft laugh.

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Afraid? Why?"

"Because, earlier tonight, when we were on the boat deck, I told myself that I would say goodnight and retire to my cabin. I wouldn't stay out here."

He watched her.

"I told myself I wouldn't kiss you."

His eyes widened in amazement.

"And yet, here I am, standing with you, my heart betraying me."

Picard was speechless. Beverly glanced at him and laughed nervously.

"See, now I've scared you."

He snapped back to reality. "No ... no, it's not that. I just ... Beverly, I –"

"It's all right, Jean-Luc. I understand."

"No, I don't think you do," he began.

"Please, don't. I'm a widow, in her forties. I shouldn't have expected ..." she paused, embarrassed. "... what I was expecting." She reached for the doorknob. A strong hand covered hers, pulling it away. She lowered her head.

"Please, Jean-Luc. Don't make this more embarrassing for me than it already is."

He watched, her back to him, but said nothing. She waited, certain he'd release her hand. But he didn't.

"Jean-Luc –" the words died in her throat as she turned around to find his lips mere inches away from hers. She watched as he came closer and then closed her eyes as his lips met hers in a tentative kiss.

He was pleased to discover the sweet taste her lips carried. So soft and full. He backed her against the door, moving his hands to her waist. She sighed at the contact. Seizing the opportunity, he gently, but insistently probed at her closed lips. Delight filled him as she

yielded to him and parted her mouth, opening it to his. He was precise in his exploration. Tracing her teeth, running his tongue along the roof of her mouth...it was heaven. Slowly, he ended the

kiss, pulling away from her lips, reluctantly.

"That was nice," Beverly breathed, a bit dazed.

"I'm glad you thought so," he chuckled, rubbing his nose against hers.

Behind them, her hand found the doorknob. He looked up at the sound of her cabin door opening. His eyes questioned hers. She merely smiled and took a step back through the open door, pulling him in. Once inside, she leaned over, shutting the door.

"Beverly?"

"Jean-Luc."

He glanced around, taking in her cabin.

"I hope you don't think it too forward of me," she said coyly, echoing his earlier words.

Picard could only stare, speechless, as Beverly walked across the room and sat down on the couch.

"Care to join me?" she asked, patting the space next to her.

Disbelief turned into delight as he slowly approached her. Sitting down, he looked over.

"Beverly, I must confess. I don't know quite what to say."

"Then don't say anything at all," she replied and drew him into a kiss. It was sweet and gentle, yet at the same time filled with a desire and urgency. A small escaped Beverly's lips as Picard leaned her onto the headrest, her body coming to rest underneath his. She allowed herself to become lost in the sensations he was creating.

Picard smiled at Beverly's reaction. Deepening the kiss, he brought a hand up, spreading it over her waist. Moving his lips, he began trailing a path down her neck and over her shoulders. Beverly moved her hands over his back, tracing various patterns through his jacket. Her fingers rose and began playing with the short fringe of hair that adorned his head. The movement elicited a moan from Picard. He brought himself back up to eye level with her.

"Beverly," he whispered.

"Yes, Jean-Luc?" her breath was short and ragged.

"I want to make love to you."

Delight coursed through her as his words rumbled in her ear.

"And I want you to," she whispered back, running her hands over his head.

Slowly, he lifted himself from the couch. Gazing up at him, Beverly smiled softly.

"What now, Mr. Picard?"

Laughter filled the room as Jean-Luc leaned over and lifted her into his arms. "I haven't decided yet, Mrs. Crusher. I suppose we'll just have to come up with some ideas of our own. How does that sound?" he asked, walking towards the bedroom.

"Perfect," Beverly sighed. "Absolutely perfect."

The gentle hum of the engines echoed in the cabin, mixing with the soft sound of breathing and the occasional rustling of sheets.

xxx

Thump.

Thump.

Beverly opened her eyes, squinting as daylight invaded her world. Looking down, she saw two arms securely fastened about her waist. She smiled fondly, as the events of the previous night flooded her memory. Lifting her head, she gazed up into the sleeping face of Jean-Luc.

 _He's so adorable_ , she thought to herself. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined this man to be as passionate as he had been last night. She knew that the French were considered to be connoisseurs of romance, and was true. She'd had a few French lovers before marrying Jack. But, Jean-Luc ... how could she begin to describe it? He'd been so attentive to her needs, her desires. And it had been far beyond anything that mere words could ever do justice to. She knew it couldn't happen, it shouldn't be possible – how can you fall in love with someone in a day? But she was. She knew that she loved this man. A love like she had never known.

"Why the frown?"

Beverly glanced up at the sound of his voice. His hazel eyes sparkled, smiling at her. His mouth met hers in a kiss.

"Well, good morning to you, too," she laughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Good morning, Beverly," he grinned.

"Much better."

"I'm glad you think so. Did you have a pleasant night's rest?" he asked, pulling her closer.

"What little I got was."

"Is that a complaint I'm hearing?"

"Most definitely not."

"Good," he replied, laughing. "I'd hate to think you were disappointed in any way."

"Trust me, Jean-Luc. It was 10's across the board," she told him, snuggling into his chest and falling back to sleep.

He watched her, idling running a hand along her side, the other stroking her hair. He couldn't believe that he was actually here with this beautiful creature beside him. Loving him. Love? Was that what this was? It had to be. He had never felt this way with any other woman. True, he'd had his share of encounters in his life – what Naval man didn't? Or any man for that matter. But this ... this was different. Beverly was different. He never thought he'd be attracted to an American woman. He'd always found them egocentric. Concerned only with their status. But this auburn angel was not at all like that. Yes, he loved her. It was most definitely love. But what to do about it? There were only 3 more days until they were to dock in New York City. What then? He frowned. There was only one thing to do.

"Beverly," he nudged her softly.

"Mmm ..."

"Beverly, wake up. I need my arm," he stated more insistently.

"Jean-Luc, it's five am. Go back to sleep."

"Beverly!"

"Okay, okay, I'm awake," she grumbled.

He laughed. "I'm sorry, love, but I need to get dressed," he told her, walking to a chair where his clothes lay.

She cocked an eye open. "Dressed? Whatever for? Planning on going somewhere?"

"Very funny."

"Who said I was kidding?"

"Beverly, as much as I'd like to stay here and make love to you, I do have a few things that require my attention."

Beverly watched as he buttoned his shirt.

"At 5 am? Besides, I thought you were on vacation."

"I am."

"So, what's the problem?"

He threw her a glance. "Breakfast?"

"What about it?"

"Give me an hour, and I'll meet you here for breakfast."

She just looked at him.

He sighed. "I'll even serve it to you in bed."

She gave him an amused stare. He waited, watching her. Finally, she relented. "All right. But it had better be one fantastic breakfast."

"Of course, cherie." He straightened his jacket and walked over to the bed. Leaning down, he caught her lips in a kiss.

"Dream of me," he told her.

"Always."

xxx

Knock.

Knock.

"It's open," Beverly called.

Jean-Luc pushed the cabin door open with one hand, balancing a tray in the other.

"Beverly?" he called out.

"I'm in here, Jean-Luc," she answered from the bedroom.

He walked slowly, careful not to disturb the contents on the tray. Upon entering the bedroom, he smiled. Beverly sat against the headboard, blankets tucked around her. She had obviously been up, for she was now wearing a pink satin nightgown and her hair, brushed out, fell to her shoulders in a soft wave.

"I see you've been up and about," he remarked, coming to the side of the bed.

"Actually, I always look this good when I wake up," she quipped.

He smiled. "I would have to agree."

"Liar. But, you do get points for the effort." Her eyes sparkled.

"I seem to recall promising you breakfast."

"Yes, I believe you did."

He placed the tray in front of her and took a seat on the edge of her bed.

"Breakfast is served."

"It looks delicious," she told him, lifting a cover to reveal eggs and bacon.

"Coffee?"

"Mmm. Please," she nodded, taking a bite of egg.

He poured her a cup and handed it to her. Reaching for the other covered plate, he asked, "Toast?"

"No thanks."

He looked up, a nervous glint in his eyes.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like some toast?" he insisted.

"Positive. Never touch the stuff."

"Not even a bite?"

"No." She glanced at him curiously. "Why are you acting so strange?"

"I couldn't tell you. Not unless you try the toast."

Sighing, she reached over. "Alright. I'll try the toast."

Her gasp filled the room when she opened the cover. Before her, in a black velvet box, sat a diamond ring, surrounded by small emeralds. Breathing softly, she took it and looked at him.

"Jean-Luc," she breathed. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yes, it is," he told her softly. "I realize at this must seem sudden, most likely ludicrous, but here," he paused, taking her hand and placing it over his heart, "here, it's telling me that this is

right. This is what I want," he finished quietly.

Her eyes filled with tears. She couldn't believe it. This wonderful man was proposing to her. He wanted her to be his wife.

"I don't know what to say," she whispered. "Say you'll marry me, Beverly. That's what I'm asking you. Please," his eyes pleaded with hers. "Marry me."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Upon opening them, she had made her decision.

"Oh Jean-Luc! Of course, I will!" Throwing her arms around him, she killed him, full on the mouth. He responded, sliding his hand to her neck, holding her still for the kiss. His lips moved across hers, tasting, conquering. He sucked gently on her lower lip, letting it fall each time, only to capture her again in another kiss. As his lips moved down her neck and lower, Beverly sighed not only in response to the sensations he was evoking in her body, but also from the thought of knowing that she was about to join this man on a wonderful journey that would entwine both of their lives together for a long time to come.

xxx

"Welcome to our temporary home, Mrs. Picard."

Beverly giggled in his arms as Jean-Luc stepped over the threshold of his cabin.

"Why thank you, Mr. Picard. Now, are you going to put me down or do you plan on carrying me all over the ship this evening?"

He merely smiled at her and continued to the bedroom. Upon reaching the bed, he lowered her down gently and propped himself up on his elbows, coming to rest over her.

"You were saying?"

"I forgot."

"Good." His lips descended on hers, bringing the conversation to a close.

A few hours later, the two lay curled up in each other's arms, their breathing slowing.

"Jean-Luc?"

"Yes, Beverly."

"I have to admit it."

"What's that?" he questioned.

"This was definitely a good idea."

Beverly listened with pleasure as his laughter filled the room, loving the deep sound. Finally, it died down and he turned to her. "I must agree with you there, love. Although, my men at home are never going to believe this."

"I suppose this does shoot your whole stoic facade act to pieces," she murmured, nuzzling his neck.

"Indeed," he replied. "Speaking of home," he sat up. Beverly glanced at him.

"Yes?"

"I realize that we didn't really stop to discuss this, but where is home going to be? I know where I want you to be, but –" his words fell silent as he focused on her hair, running a hand through it.

"Jean-Luc, I realize that today was quite sudden," she began.

"Believe me, if someone had told me yesterday that today I would be proposed by and married to a Captain in the Royal Navy, I would have laughed in their face. But, I have married you. You're my husband and I will go wherever you go. I won't lie to you and say that I won't miss America, because I will. But if you stay in France, then so will I."

He watched her as she spoke, seeing the love he felt for her reflected in her eyes. Gathering her into his arms, he breathed in deeply. "Beverly, how I love you. You'll never know how happy you make me."

"The feeling is mutual, my love." She curled closer to him, snuggling into his warmth.

"I want to take you to France, Beverly. I want you to see the beautiful countryside, the vineyards ..." He pulled her closer. "I want to show you off to everyone."

She laughed, turning on her side to look at him.

"Aren't you afraid they might not share your enthusiasm, love?" she teased.

"They wouldn't dare," he retorted, grinning.

"Mmm ..." Beverly shrugged noncommittally.

"Are you questioning my authority?" he asked in mock shock.

"Never," she murmured, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Jean-Luc let the conversation drop, content to let her sleep in his arms. There would be plenty more opportunities to "argue" in their future. And he was going to enjoy every one.


	2. It Was All a Dream

_11:39pm April 14, 1912_

Moonlight streamed through the portal, illuminating the two lovers in its pale iridescent glow. A soft sigh, uttered in sleep, escaped Beverly's lips as Jean-Luc's arms unconsciously tightened around her. She turned over, nestling into the space he created for her.

A slight, almost imperceptible shudder occurred as she fitted her head into the crook of his shoulder. Jean-Luc's eyes flew open and he sat up quickly.

"What's the matter?" Beverly mumbled, slowly sitting up beside him.

"Did you feel that," he asked, his hazel eyes glancing sharply about the room. They landed on his pocket watch, sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. Checking the time, it read 11:40pm.

"Feel what?"

"A shudder. I'm almost positive that I felt the ship shake. Almost like it brushed up against something."

Beverly regarded him with a skeptical look.

"A seaman can tell when something is wrong with a ship. It's almost like a sixth sense, and my sixth sense is telling me that something is amiss." He paused, cocking his head.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Listen."

A pause and then, "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly. The engines have stopped."

She watched as he climbed out of bed and began pulling on his trousers.

"Where are you going?"

"Up to the Boat Deck to see what is going on," he told her, slipping on his shirt.

"I'll go with you." She threw the blankets to the side of the bed.

"No, Beverly. I'd rather you did not." He walked over to where she sat, taking her hand in his and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm probably just overreacting about this. A captain does tend to do that at times. This ship is unsinkable, right." He tried to sound convincing. "No need for you to get all dressed, just to come back and take it all off again."

"And who said I'd be taking it off?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If I have anything to say in the matter, and believe me I do, you will."

Beverly's eyebrow raised even higher and she winked at him mischievously. "That might be fun."

"Beverly," he scolded.

"Jean-Luc," she linked her arms around his neck.

"You're incorrigible. You know that, don't you," he told her, shaking his head.

"I am," she laughed, leaning closer. "But you love me for it."

He answered her with a kiss. "Yes, I do. And as soon as I get back, I'm going to prove it to you."

"You mean, as soon as we get back," she corrected him.

"I can't win, can I?"

"No, you can't" she said, gleefully.

"I didn't think so."

xxx

The couple listened to shouts echoing off the deck walls as they made their way to the Bridge. Up ahead, they saw a group of people kicking a chunk of ice back and forth across the deck. Frowning, Picard stepped over to the railing. Beverly followed him, concern on her face.

"What is it, Jean-Luc?"

He shook his head, ignoring her question. Beverly decided to let it pass, realizing he was concentrating.

"She's taking on water."

She looked at him sharply. "What?"

"She's taking on water."

"Are you certain?" she pressed.

"Decidedly," he answered, concern flashing across his features.

"But the water compartments ... those were built for that type of thing, right?"

"Yes, they were. But, only to a certain extent. It depends on how extensive the damage is. If say, three of the compartments..." he broke off upon realizing the figure walking by them.

"Thomas!" he called out.

Thomas Andrews, ship's designer, turned at the sound of his name. Realizing who called him, he began to walk back.

"Jean-Luc, now is not a good time. I – "

"I know. I felt it. What's the prognosis?"

Andrews brow furrowed in thought. He spoke in a low tone, leaning closer to Picard. "It doesn't look good, my friend. I'm on my way to the Bridge to show the Captain the schematics."

Picard stared at him. "Are you saying she's going to sink?"

Andrews sighed, his burden heavy. "I won't lie to you, Jean-Luc. She is not going to make it. With the water that she's already taken on ..."

Picard could only stare, shocked into silence.

Beverly spoke up. "Mr. Andrews, how much time do we have? Nine, ten hours?"

Andrews regarded her sadly. "I'm afraid not, ma'am. Two, two and a half, but no more than three."

"Three hours! That can't be possible!" she cried out.

"I'm afraid it is." Turning, he took Picard by the arm. "Jean-Luc, get your friend to a lifeboat. Remember the conversation we had the other day? The one concerning safety regulations ..."

"Dear God," he breathed, realizing what Andrews was referring to. Horror reflected in his eyes.

"Yes, my friend. Godspeed," Andrews told him, heading for the Bridge.

Grabbing Beverly by the arm, he began walking quickly back to their quarters.

"Jean-Luc! What are you doing?" Beverly cried out when they reached the cabin. She watched as he ran into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with two white objects grasped in his hands.

"Life vests," he explained.

Beverly's eyes widened. "Jean-Luc ... I –"

"Beverly, please! Trust me."

"I do trust you."

"Then do exactly as I say. Take off your coat." He took a life vest and slipped it over her head. "Arms out," he instructed. Doing as she was told, Beverly extended her arms. She watched in silence as he secured the vest around her waist. Satisfied, he stepped back and took his own jacket off and handed the other vest to her.

"Here, Beverly. Help me with this." He stood still as she slipped it on him. Silently, he watched as her trembling fingers fumbled with the fastenings. He reached down and took her hands in his.

"Beverly," he murmured. Shaking, she collapsed into his embrace.

"Jean-Luc," she cried. "How is this happening? It can't be real!"

"Shh ..." he whispered. "It is going to be okay. Beverly, I am right here." Comforting her, he held her, waiting for the tears to subside.

"Are you going to be al; right?" he asking, pulling away to look into her tear-streaked face.

She nodded her head, wiping the wetness from her cheeks.

"All right, then." He brought her hands to his vest. "Let's get this secured." She gave him a small smile and fastened his vest. "There, all done."

"Thank you, love. Now, why don't we get the heaviest coats I have. Yes?" he encouraged, walking towards his closet.

"Of course." She followed him, stopping at his closet. "Here," she said, pushing his hand away. "Let me." He stepped aside and watched her as she rifled though his belongings. Finally, settling on one that met with her approval, she pulled it out. "This one. Wear this one." She presented it to him.

A smile broke across his face and he took the coat, laughing. "As always, Beverly, your taste is impeccable."

She laughed, her anxiety slowly receding.

"That's what I like to hear," he told her, taking her and guiding them out of his quarters.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Your beautiful laughter."

She glanced at him, giving a smile. "I love you."

"And I you."

A few minutes later, they joined the small crowd that was beginning to congregate on the Boat Deck. Beverly glanced around, taking in the people nearby.

"Jean-Luc?"

"Yes?"

"Where is everybody?"

He looked at her sadly. "Unfortunately, I don't believe that there are too many who believe that the ship is actually sinking. Look," he pointed to the windows. People, still dressed in their dinner best were milling about laughing and drinking, oblivious to their impending doom. A few were even dancing to the strains of music coming from the band.

"How can they not realize the ship is sinking?" she asked, incredulously.

"Darling, you know as well as I do, the amount of press that Titanic received; regarding her as unsinkable ... a floating palace –"

"Yes, but still –"

"They choose not to believe," he interrupted. "And sadly, they are going to pay for that wrong decision with their lives."

Beverly shook her head in disbelief. "I just don't understand it."

"Nor do I."

Sighing in sadness, she reached out and clutched his hand. Squeezing it tightly, he held her close...waiting. That had to be the worst part of it all. The waiting. Not knowing. All of his life, he had had control. And now ... all he could is stand here and wait, with his wife. His wife. Had he found her only to lose her? He would not allow it.

"Jean-Luc?"

The tentative question pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked down into the serious blue eyes his wife was regarding him with.

"Yes, Beverly."

"I want to tell you, in case we don't make it out of this –"

He cut her off, sharply. "Beverly! Don't even start talking like that! We're going to make it!"

Beverly regarded him quietly. Beginning again, she spoke. "In case we don't, I want you to know how much I love you. How happy you've made me ..." her voice caught and tears began to fill her eyes.

"Oh, Beverly," Jean-Luc's voice broke. He pulled her into his embrace. "How I love you. I never thought it possible, but you've filled an empty place in my heart that I didn't even know existed."

He reached down and caught her chin with his hand. Raising her lips to his, he kissed her. A kiss filled with passion, showing her all his love, and yet, made bittersweet by the knowledge of how short their lives together might be.

"I love you, Beverly Crusher Picard," he whispered into her mouth.

She shuddered as his warm breath washed across her open lips "And I love you, Jean-Luc Picard," she responded, drawing him into another kiss.

Suddenly, the ship shuddered and angled sharply, dipping into the water. Metal screamed as terrific pressure was exerted on the inner structure of the ship. Wires snapped and the ship was torn in two. The deck shifted and began to buckle.

Picard watched in horror as Beverly was knocked from his grasp and propelled backwards onto the deck. She screamed as she began sliding down into tangled mesh of wires and metal.

"Beverly!"

"Jean-Luc!" she cried, grasping futilely for a handhold. Anything to keep her from sliding downward.

"Beverly!" All he could was watch, helplessly, as she slipped away from him, from their life.

The ship rocked again, throwing Beverly from the deck and into the gaping hole.

"Beverly ... No!"

xxx

"No!"

Captain Jean-Luc Picard, NCC-1701-D, bolted from his bed, his body bathed in sweat, breaths coming in labored gasps. He closed his eyes, still able to recall the sight of Beverly Crusher, falling to her death.

"A dream," he murmured. "It was only a dream." He slowed his breathing, calming his heart. Swinging his feet over the bed, he addressed the computer.

"Computer, location of Dr. Beverly Crusher."

"Dr. Crusher is presently in her quarters."

"Computer, time."

"The time is 0400."

 _0400_ , he thought. _Of course she'd be in her quarters_. Sleeping. Better dreams than himself, he hoped.

He debated on whether or not to wake her. The dream ... it had been so real, so vivid. He could still remember the smell of the sea air, the ship, the feel of her body nestled against his. Emotion flooded through him and his mind was made up. Slipping on a shirt, he headed to her quarters.

xxx

Starlight fell upon her face, casting its pale glow on her sleeping features. Her hair, splayed against a pillow, contrasted sharply with the white cloth. Jean-Luc smiled as he watched her. She was here with him. Safe. She turned, suddenly, in her sleep, causing the cover which lay across her chest, to fall away. He breathed in sharply at the sight it revealed.

His eyes traveled over her sleeping form, taking in the pink nightgown she wore. He had seen the accompanying robe countless time before, when he had come to her in the middle of the night. But never had he seen what was underneath. Without thinking, he reached out and traced her collarbone, running his fingers over it lightly.

Beverly stirred slightly. Slowly, opening her eyes, she tried to make out the figure standing before her.

"Jean-Luc?" she mumbled, sleepily.

"Yes, Beverly. It's me."

She began to sit up. "What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

"No, no," he assured her. "Lie back down."

"You're positive there's nothing wrong?" she asked again, fully awake and arching a concerned eyebrow at him.

"Absolutely," he promised.

"If you say so," she shrugged and laid back down. "So, what brings you to my quarters a t..." she glanced over, checking the chronometer, "0415?"

"A dream."

"A dream?"

"Yes."

"Really?" she smiled, her voice laced with innuendo. "So," she leaned in conspiratorially, "tell me about this dream."

Jean-Luc had to laugh. "It wasn't that kind of a dream."

"Oh." She frowned in mock disappointment. "Well, then. Go away."

"So that's how it's going to be."

"Of course." She smiled at him. "No, really. Tell me about it."

"Remember the exhibit we attended on Starbase 7?"

"The one with the artifacts from shipwrecks?"

"That would be the one. I was captivated with the Titanic artifacts. She's held my fascination ever since I was a boy."

Beverly smiled at him fondly. "Yes, I seem to recall having to drag you away so we could eat lunch."

He chuckled. "As I said, they were fascinating. But back to what I was saying. I dreamed that I was on the Titanic last night."

"Really?" she leaned forward, her curiosity piqued.

"Yes. I was a Naval Captain, traveling to America for a vacation," he held up a hand, "please, no comments."

She grinned.

"And I met this beautiful woman. Absolutely breathtaking. I bought her a drink. We went for a walk and ended up at her quarters."

"Go on," Beverly urged.

"Needless to say, I ended up staying the night."

"I'm shocked," Beverly teased, raising a hand to her chest.

"I'm sure," he replied, dryly. "When we woke up the next morning, I proposed and she accepted."

Beverly was surprised to discover a twinge of jealousy course through her at his words. After all, it was just a dream. It wasn't as if it had really happened. Still ...

"Beverly, are you all right?"

Jean-Luc looked at her with concern.

"I'm fine. Please, continue."

He watched for a moment longer and then continued.

"We spent our wedding night together –"

Beverly didn't even want to entertain those thoughts.

"It was April 14."

"What was?"

"Our wedding night."

 _April 14 ... April 14_. Beverly knew that date should be familiar. But why?

"About 11:40 p.m., I woke up to feel a shudder. We went up top to find that she had struck the iceberg."

Beverly nodded, engrossed in what he was telling her.

"I made her put on a life vest. Little good it did her," he whispered, pain filling his eyes.

Beverly's heart went out to him. Dream or no, it had been real to him. "Oh, Jean-Luc. I'm sorry."

"She ... she was thrown to the deck when the ship angled into the water. It broke apart and I watched, helpless, as she fell through the twisted metal ... the broken decks. I screamed out to her, crying her name. And then ... I awoke." He grew quiet, just sitting there, staring out into the vast expanse of space.

"Jean-Luc," Beverly put her arms around him. "I don't know what to say."

"It was only a dream."

"Yes, but it apparently affected you."

"Yes, it did. But, I wonder. Would it have affected me as much if it had not been her?" he pondered aloud.

"Was she that amazing?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, yes. She was that and more. So much more."

"I'm envious."

He looked up at her in surprise. "You shouldn't be."

Beverly waited, unsure of what to say.

"It was you, Beverly." He spoke softly, gazing at the stars. "You were the woman. Even in my dreams, I can't escape it. The power you have over my heart."

Beverly sat there, speechless, not believing what she had just heard. She had known, for quite some time, of the feelings Jean-Luc had for her. Feelings which, more and more recently, she was becoming aware of in her own heart. And now, hearing him say that – it shattered the final barrier she had erected around her heart.

"Oh, Jean-Luc," she whispered, placing her hand on his back.

He turned to face her and was astonished to see tears glistening in her eyes. Not knowing what else to do, he brought his hand up, gently cupping her chin, gradually bringing her closer to his lips.

Her eyes drifted shut as his lips captured hers in a tender kiss. Bringing his hands down, he fitted them around her waist, drawing her to him as her arms encircled his neck. A few moments later, she felt his probing tongue. Hesitantly, she parted her lips, allowing him access, and then, meeting him fully as his mouth opened on hers. He moved slowly against her, their mouths finding the perfect fit, savoring the sweet taste.

She moaned softly into his mouth when he gently pushed her back onto the bed, coming to rest over her. He let his lips move lazily over hers, taking in their softness. Finally, ending the kiss, he pulled away and looked down into her eyes.

"You were saying," he asked lovingly.

"I forgot," she whispered.

"Good," he smiled, reaching down for another kiss and then another and another.


End file.
